


Interlude

by sira89



Series: Interlude [1]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-12 16:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9080227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sira89/pseuds/sira89
Summary: Even usually fucks Isak sweetly. This time, he does not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe an excerpt of a longer fic. Also, it's set a year from now

Even knows just exactly where Isak is across the room, despite that the fact that they are not looking at one another. They are both actively ignoring one another, actually. They are technically, sort of, maybe… not together anymore? Even doesn’t know. Things have been hard. Different than with Sonja. Sonja was a love, a friendship, that dissipated into something that will always kind of ache in a fond sort of way. His relationship with Isak is funny, in a dark sort of way. So fucking intense, so back and forth, so sweet and so dark. A goddamn metaphor for who Even was, who he would always be. Even had to let it go. Him go. He didn’t want that for Isak. That’s just how it would have to be.

The thing is though, Even is _buzzing_. No, not in that way. He’s not manic. He knows this, because he can feel mania coming like the polar express, all excitement and alarms and “who the fuck cares?” it feels soooo good. This does not feel good. This is making his fingers twitch and his blood boil and his knuckles have gone white around the beer bottle he’s been sipping from. He’s nodding to something one of the third years is saying about the stupid revue group, and smiling because he is _not_ about to lose it in front of half of his old classmates.

Isak has his chin rested on his hand, elbow holding him up from the table. Hat on backwards, parker on over a sweatshirt, not dressed up, looking hot as hell. Even catches his blond hair naturally from his peripheral vision, but has to concentrate for the details. Isak is pretty _fucking_ focused on Chris. There really isn’t any subtlety between the two of them, and it’s driving Even crazy. Isak looks like an angel. Okay, maybe he’s idolizing a bit, but… there’s always been this innocence to Isak, this freshness. He’s not perfect, but it seems like everything he does is to protect himself, hide the edges of himself. No wonder Even was drawn to him.

Isak is looking at Chris with doe eyes. Yeah, long lashes, eyes wide, you fucking name it. Even heard through someone who was friends with someone who knew Chris that they fucked last Thursday. Even had scoffed when he heard that, but now he’s watching them with a sickness bubbling in his stomach. Because, yeah, it was his fault they weren't together but _really_ , Isak? And also, why the fuck wouldn’t Chris keep his fucking mouth shut if they had- _lipspartedlegsspreadfuckyesmoreilikeitwhenyousuckmyfingers_ \- fucked. Isak was shy, especially when it came to sex, and people knowing he was having sex. He would blush crimson when Even- his boyfriend- casually alluded to it to his best friends. So some guy he’s hooking up with tells the whole school Isak’s business? Fuck him.

Even is trying hard to focus on the conversation, except Isak’s lips are turning up in a smile and he’s so stupid beautiful it makes Even’s mind go hazy. In part because he should be happy that Isak is smiling at all; that he doesn’t have the dark smudges under his eyes he’s been sporting for the past month, making Even worry like crazy and doubt his decision. The other part seethes with a jealousy that makes him want to shove his fist in Chris’s face and kick him to the floor. He doesn’t understand it, because Even has never been like that before. Never craved physical violence like he does now. He wants to nip at Isak’s neck, make him cry out a little, suck big purple bruises into his skin. Pull his head back by the hair and make him say what he really wants. Put him on his hands and knees and tell him “You’re mine, mine, mine.”

Even doesn’t like these possessive thoughts. He doesn’t believe in a love like that. But he gets a little hard in his pants at the thought of Isak like that and he can’t help it. Isak has always been so sweet in bed, it’s not a stretch to imagine him submissive, too.

Chris’s hand goes around Isak’s free wrist, his fingers tapping something Even can’t understand on the underside. He’s saying something flirtatious to Isak, Even can tell by the way his lips form and the way Isak is lowering his gaze. Even doesn’t know what’s happening, he’s had a couple beers, but now he’s standing right in front of them. Isak is blinking up at him in silence, the both of them just frozen.  
“Uhhh… I’m going to go out for a smoke.” Chris says, and the ugliness in Even’s head comes up with everything but _yes, please_.  
Isak is up and walking away before Even can process it. He turns and follows him, his whole night has been working up towards this, might as well make it worth it.  
“Isak.” It doesn’t stop him, he’s on his way to the kitchen, opening a beer, drinking it too quickly.  
“Isak…”  
“ _What_?” There’s a venom in Isak’s eyes and in his tone that Even’s never seen before. It’s on his face and it takes Even aback.

“Not quite done with me now that someone else is interested?” That is so fucking wrong and he should tell Isak so, but he’s too blinded by the rage bubbling in Isak, and the jealousy in himself, to react accordingly. Instead, his hand finds the back of Isak’s head under his hat and curl in his hair. He pulls back, hard, and revels at the surprise on Isak’s face.

“You’re fucking done with him. You’re fucking _done_ with him.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, knows he has no right. He’s forgetting explanations and running just on instinct and emotion. Still, Isak’s face transforms a little, a china doll with a bloody smile, and it wires Even with heat and tension.

“Fuck you.” Isak says, and pushes Even hard, despite Even’s fingers still clamped in his hair. He pulls Even’s wrist away from his head and turns to walk away. Even is hot on his heels, two fingers looping in his back belt loop _mineminemine_ and he can hear Isak’s frustrated “Even!” and pushes him in the nearest room he can find. The two people in it scramble up and stare for a minute, before leaving, door shutting loudly.

Even stares at Isak and Isak stares at Even, petulantly. Even is so fucking hard in his jeans, it’s uncomfortable. He pushes Isak hard against the door. When Isak looks at him angrily and loops his fingers in Even’s pants, pulling them together, Even could cry in relief. This is familiar, this is beautiful, their hips rocking together. Even kisses him next, openmouthed and unreserved. When he pulls back, Isak looks up at him in a way that has always driven Even wild. Like he doesn’t know what to do next but wants it _ohsofuckingbad_.

“Get on you knees.” Even is usually sweet with directions, but not tonight. There is something thick and unmanageable between them still. A distrust, plenty of frustration, how-could-you-do-this. Isak tips his face up and Even has to repeat himself, with more bite, before Isak obliges. It both irritates and excites him in a way he can’t explain. Doubly so when Isak gets on his knees and does fucking nothing but stare up at him.

Even opens his belt and unbuttons his pants, pulls himself out. Usually Isak would be eager, would be mouthing at him before his hands could get his button undone. Tonight, Isak stays still on his knees, hands at his side. But his eyes aren’t on Even’s anymore and his lips part to flick his tongue across them, sending a heat through Even that he can barely control. Even takes Isak by that back of the head, despite that he is still wearing his hat, and pulls him towards his cock. Isak’s lips open and takes him in without hesitation, hands bracing the front of Even’s thighs. At first Even is a little unsure because they have never done it… this way. But Isak looks up at him through his lashes and only a moment passes before Even’s hips start moving. He holds Isak’s head in place while Isak stares up at him and lets him fuck his mouth. Even watches his cock move in and out, watches Isak's lips get wet and his cheeks get flushed, before he realizes Isak hasn’t taken his eyes from his face and they just watch each other.

Actually, Even quite likes it this way. Despite Isak refusing to use his hands (and Even aching to discipline him for it,) there’s an intimacy to it that they hadn’t reached before. Even pushes into the softness of Isak’s throat, and Isak gags hard. Even likes that, and doesn’t stop to worry about why. He does it again and again until tears are gathering in Isak’s eyes and he has to pull off him to settle his breathing. There’s a bit of saliva and pre come roping his cock and Isak’s bottom lip together, and Even etches that in his memory. After blinking and swallowing, Isak looks up at him with a new vulnerability. Even thumbs softly at his cheekbone but pushes back in his mouth, finding a rhythm. He makes Isak blink and gag, but not too hard. When Isak turns his eyes downwards, focusing, Even says “No, look at me. Look at me.” And he cradles Isak’s face in his hands while he fucks his mouth and they stare and stare at each other.

 

When Isak starts moaning and palming himself, Even pulls out of his mouth with a different urgency. Still, he pauses at Isak’s wide eyes, wet cheeks, and spit covered chin. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Isak. Fuck.” It’s slipped out and Even can’t take it back now. It’s so reminiscent of how they used to have sex, make love, that it feels like skin stripped back. For a second his imagination is putting Isak and Chris together before his eyes, and the next his hands are digging into Isak’s hips, roughly putting him how he wants him. Isak whines a little. He’s on his hands and knees on the floor. Even pushes the space between his shoulder blades down, so his face rests on his forearms, ass up. It can be dirty and impersonal, but for Isak, it’s the position where he always feels the most vulnerable in. The most self conscious. Even bites on his tongue to clamp down on his praise, and starts working his fingers.

Finally, _finally_ , he pushes himself in and starts working a fast past. Isak whines high but pushes back on him, fists curling in. Even’s hands are bruising his hips but he’s found it now, they both have, the angle and pace that has them both breathless and moaning. Then, Isak does that thing that drives Even crazy, kind of pushes his hips down and arches his back so his ass is high in the air and Even nearly fucking sees black. “Fuck, baby,” it’s barely a whisper, but Isak responds to it, rocking back and back when Even pushes forward and forward.

When they are spent, there’s this awkward moment when Isak moves towards his clothes. Even’s hands find him quickly and lead him to the bed instead. Shit, he thinks, because Isak is moving like Even was a little too rough with him. They lay together, Even’s hands finding the usual pattern. At some point Isak lost his hat. Even does his best to soothe, running his hands through hair and down his back and over his hips. He watches Isak come down from the sex high and settle into a sadness. He can’t stand it, and moves to press himself closer, but Isak flinches.

  
“You left me.” It’s soft, and Even’s kind of surprised Isak said it at all. “You always leave me. You don’t want this anymore.” Even’s hand works back up to the hair and he takes a deep breath, doesn’t know how to fix this. “Of course I wanted this… still do. But I was ruining you, Isak. When I’m up or down… you can’t focus on anything else. It’s bad for you. I can’t keep doing that to you.” It seems like a confession, even though to Even it sounds obvious. And Isak frowns, tightening again, pulling away. “Why do you get to decide what’s good and bad for me if I don’t get to with you?” Isak says and looks at him hard. It’s pretty much the same argument they’ve been having for the past year, except with roles reversed. Even feels kind of stupid for not noticing that, but also wants to scream all the ways that this is different. This is ISAK, and he can have a normal life. Even wants him to be happy and unweighted the way other people are.

Instead, Even just sighs. He looks at Isak and Isak looks back. His fingers find Isak’s face and he smoothes the hurt expression out of it. He touches and touches and touches, until the loud music has been turned off, and the voices disappear, and the light comes through the window. I don’t know how this is supposed to be; I just love you, he tells Isak. Softly, as his eyes are fluttering closed. He stays until Isak wakes up, and then they are back where they’ve always been.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not sure if I'm prepared to write a multi-chaptered fic that could do Isak and Even justice quite yet. Also, I know I'd get halfway through and want to change a bunch of stuff. So I was going to kind of make a series with kind of random snapshots into their relationship, because they are fun to write. Except this one is directly related, so I added it as a chapter. Anyway, let me know what you think

Isak opens his laptop and resists the urge to let his mind wander. The problem is, he’s caught up with all his schoolwork. He’s been working hard this week, studied more than he ever has. Jonas is spending time with family, Magnus has a new girl, and Mahdi is doing whatever the fuck Mahdi does on Thursday nights. Isak’s out of options for staying busy. Maybe he could hang out in the kitchen with Eskild but then he’d probably just end up spilling about everything that had happened on Friday. Eskild would want to talk about it, because he always wants to talk about Even-  
_no_.  
Isak isn’t going to think about that. He can’t keep wasting time ruminating over something that isn’t going to change. And he’s been good the past couple weeks. He’s been out, he’s laughing again (sometimes), he did the rebound thing. He sleeps most nights. He’s faking it until he makes it, more or less. He barely checks his phone. Not unless he hears it vibrate.

Even hasn’t texted or tried to contact him since Friday. No surprises there. Isak knows he’s breaking his rules on dont-think-about-Even, but he lets the anger curl in his belly anyway. He’s angry at Even now and he was angry at Even the week before they fucked, too. It helps. Anger is useful, it helps with moving on. He can see that Even wasn’t perfect for him, that sometimes people don’t get excuses, that Even is actually kind of the biggest fucking dick he’s ever met.

Because who the fuck shows up at his old school’s party when he knows his ex boyfriend, who struggled with the break up _far_ more, will be there? Even. Who can’t just mind his own business and spend the night smiling with wolf’s teeth and glittering eyes? Even. Who has to go and rip Isak away from a decent time and completely _fuck_ up the carefully constructed detachment in Isak’s mind? Mother _fucking_ Even.

You know what else? Things had been good. Before they broke up, things had been good. The first week after Even broke things off, Isak thought maybe Even was going through part of his cycle. Isak was stressed, but he thought Even would come around. Except their were no signs that Even was up, or down, or even unhappy. He just didn’t want to see Isak anymore. The second week, Isak combed through everything they had talked about, everything they had done… to try to find a reason Even would unexpectedly break it off. He thought about it day and night, and couldn’t come up with anything. He’d texted Even “can we talk?” Twenty six hours later Even texted, “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I think we should just take some space for now.” Isak had thrown his phone against the wall.

Two days later he had seen Even in a coffee shop with one of his university mates, laughing and talking like any other person. Isak had ran home, locked himself in his room, and cried.

So yeah, Even was kind of a heartless asshole.

Which is exactly what he should have said to Even last Friday. It’s just that, Isak got a little tongue-tied when Even approached him. He hadn’t _actually_ thought Even would acknowledge him, not with the way he’d forgotten Isak the past month. But he had. He’d smelled the same, and moved with the same self assurance. And he’d looked at Isak with such focus, and so much fire.

Isak huffs out in surprise at the familiar tug in his belly and taps his fingers on his laptop with indecision. He flushes in embarrassment because really, he shouldn’t be so easy. Especially when it came to his ex-boyfriend. He should watch some porn and be done with it, like he usually does. But he can’t stop thinking about how easily Even commands him, and how Isak wants to obey. It’s the tone of voice, he thinks.  
_Get on your knees_.  
Isak’s hand inches down and slips under his waistband. He experimentally tugs on his dick and sets the laptop aside, staring up at the ceiling.  
_Look at me_.  
He brings his hand back up and spits on it messily. Even used to make him do that, when they were in a pinch at school or somewhere public, hidden. He’d hold his hand out under Isak’s chin and smirk at him because he’d know Isak would do anything to get Even’s hand around him. He’d kiss him sweetly after too, before sliding his hand just right.  
He shouldn’t, but Isak closes his eyes and lets himself fantasize. Maybe if he could do Friday again, he’d push Even down on the bed. He’d climb on top and mark his neck up while he rolls his hips, Even inside. Even likes that sometimes, letting Isak set the pace, just getting to watch Isak move.  
Even likes to watch. Actually, if they were to redo Friday, Even would probably make Isak finger himself while he kneels between his legs. Isak would flush red, even with knowing that’s what Even’s after. He’d flush but find the sweet spot and then lose himself. Even would watch Isak move his fingers just right, murmuring things Isak can barely hear, until Isak is breathless and moaning _now, now, please_.  
Isak is a little breathless now, thinking about it.  
He thinks of how it feels when Even first pushes in, when he laces their fingers together, when he sucks on Isak’s bottom lip. How when Isak gets close, he slows his pace to nearly a standstill and when Isak cries out in frustration, he smiles. How sometimes he’ll dip his finger in the cum on Isak’s stomach, put it to Isak’s lips and tell him to suck.

Fuck.

When he is done, Isak is disappointed in himself. He wonders if it was worth it.

 


End file.
